


Cirque du Capitole

by forthegenuine



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Magical Realism, Tumblr: promptsinpanem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:06:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthegenuine/pseuds/forthegenuine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a circus mysteriously appears overnight in District 12, Peeta is enchanted by the illusionist, who brings a little bit of magic into his life. The Night Circus. Day 3: The Fair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cirque du Capitole

**Author's Note:**

> My first submission to Prompts in Panem. Took some liberties with the 'fair' concept, and added some magic inspired by Erin Morgenstern's 'The Night Circus.'

_1903_

The circus arrived in District 12 without warning. 

It must have come by train overnight because when Peeta peered in the direction of the meadow on the first day of spring, he didn’t see its vast greenness as he usually did. Instead, he saw a ferris wheel towering above the treelines and the modest buildings of the district. He had never seen a ferris wheel in person before. He remembered reading about one in one of his father's old magazines, when it was featured in the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago, years before his time. He couldn't fathom that it would humanly possible for man to build a contraption taller than 12's forest. But then again, he had never set foot outside his district, so what did he know?

Even from as far as he was, Peeta could tell that the ferris wheel was red and white. Its stripes resembled candy canes at Christmas, and he could almost swear he could smell peppermint wafting in the cool air. The passenger cars glistened in the morning sunlight, rays reflecting off the sparkling glass. They swayed simultaneously, cradles in the soft whisper of the breeze, as if they were being rocked by an invisible hand. His eyes were drawn to the topmost gondola. It caught his attention as it seemed to glitter, minutely and imperceptibly, brighter than the rest of them. Peeta shook his head, certain that he was simply imagining things. 

From the front doorstep of the bakery, he saw as other early morning risers looked curiously towards the now-occupied meadow just as he did a few moments ago. The onlookers craned their necks and exchanged speculations as to when the visiting fair had arrived, and how long it would stay. He noted the excited squeals and beseeching tones of children tugging at their parent's sleeves, followed by the acquiescing sighs from reluctant mothers and fathers. 

It would not be long before the whole district would discover that the fair was actually a circus, but it hardly mattered since nothing this enthralling has happened to 12 in a very long time. 

Peeta finished sweeping the front step of the bakery and went back inside, with his broom in hand. He didn't realize, until the loud clatter and the muffled thuds of freshly baked loaves reverberated from the floor, that he had collided with one of his brothers and tripped him with the broom for good measure. Peeta exchanged downcast looks with Patrick, as they briskly bent down and collected the fallen loaves almost reflexively. 

A voice behind them made them jump. "It seems," their mother said to no one in particular, "that I've one child too many." 

She left without another word, but Peeta tried to hide the grimace that grew on his face, as if his mother had struck him as she usually did. Unable to move just yet, he wondered if didn't mind suffering a blow from his mother more than the venom she doled out. He caught Patrick looking at him sympathetically, offering a small conciliatory smile and a gentle hand on the shoulder, before getting up to start another batch of bread before the customers arrived.

Peeta finally stood slowly, supporting himself with the broom still in his hand, and through the dirty glass of the bakery front door, his gaze returned to the ferris wheel. He was struck by a strange sensation that there was something waiting for him there––something ineffable at that moment––but he just knew, he had to go. 

>>\------------->

When Peeta imagined going to the circus, he imagined being there with a girl. He didn't imagine that girl would be little Posy Hawthorne, who was fidgeting with the hems of her slightly frayed dress while they stood in line for tickets. 

While working the afternoon shift at the bakery earlier, Peeta contemplated accepting an invitation to go to the circus with his friend, Delly Cartwright. Peeta was on the verge of walking a few houses over to tell Delly he wouldn't mind going with her, when Gale strolled into the bakery. When Gale had his hands stowed away in his pockets like that, his eyes looking everywhere else, trying to avoid making contact with his, Peeta should have known his friend was up to something. He'd known Gale for several years, ever since the older boy began coming into the bakery to trade small game for bread with Peeta's father. Without realizing, or meaning to, the two became friends.

Gale sauntered his way up to the counter, where Peeta was kneading dough for a new batch of bread. 

"So," began Gale. "I asked Madge to the circus tonight." 

"Finally!" congratulated Peeta. Gale had been trying to court Madge for as long as he had known him. "Why aren't you leaping for joy about it?"

"Mama wants me to take Posy tonight, while she looks after the boys. Chickenpox."

Ah, there it is. Peeta sighed as he gave the particular lump of dough a small punch, though his good heart would not let him refuse the indirect request. He sighed, a bit dramatically, but not altogether insincerely.

"Fine, I volunteer. But you're buying."

So Peeta found himself at the front of the line for tickets to the circus, with Posy in tow. They were close enough to the fence surrounding the grounds to read a red and white sign, with black lettering,

_Opens at sundown,  
Closes after midnight._

What kind of a circus is only open at night, he wondered. He didn't have to contemplate it at great length because he was next in line. Peeta approached the booth and paid the admission fees with one hand, still clasping onto Posy's hand with the other. The man selling tickets was svelte and had a graceful air to him, and was also almost comically too tall for the little booth. Peeta noticed his eyes were lined with gold, and they sparkled a little as he talked, "Enjoy your night." 

He handed Peeta two red-and-white-striped tickets. The writing was embossed with a thin film of silver that seemed to glimmer in the firelights that lit the walkway into the circus. It read, in swirling and loopy cursive, 

_Admission to  
Cirque du Capitole_

Peeta and Posy handed their tickets to a woman with bright pink hair by the entrance, whose wide smile was so effulgent, it must be painted on her face. "Welcome, welcome!" she beamed, and as she greeted various patrons, the very color of her hair changed from the blazing pink to a verdant green. 

The pair, along with other circus guests, looked at the woman with disbelief, but she merely waved them on through the entryway. Some of the patrons laughed in delight, while others dismissed it as a trick of the lights. Posy looked up at Peeta, who returned her delighted smile and felt his disappointment from earlier in the evening dissolve into the cool night air. 

Once inside the circus grounds, Peeta saw that the vacant meadow that once sprawled was immersed in a full transformation. Countless tents and booths lined the makeshift alleys, lit by balls of flame on the tips of high torches. The main alley led to the ferris wheel, which seemed to have grown more mammoth upon closer proximity. All around them, the sounds of laughter and squeals of glee mingled with calliope music that did not seem to come from a visible instrument. The smell of sweets, cinnamon, chocolate––and, yes––peppermint permeated the air. And within several steps into the circus, the outside world faded away. 

Peeta and Posy took a turn on the ferris wheel. Though it was exhilarating to be up so high, Peeta's shoulders slumped at how simultaneously un-extraordinary it was, as he sat next to Posy, who gaped and pointed at the tiny lights of District 12. Peeta shook his head, and berated himself for hanging up so much expectation on so silly a contraption. 

By the time the evening wore on, his mood had lightened. The two strolled around the grounds, noting some faces from town. Greasy Sae and her granddaughter enjoying hot cider. Haymitch Abernathy at the booths, in a strangely jovial mood, attempting to win prizes for various children from the neighborhood. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Gale disappear behind one of the tents with Madge Undersee. Peeta bought Posy cotton candy the size of her head.

Although the ferris wheel seemed to be the draw, the main attractions were actually the tents. Or rather, the contents of them. Each held a different sight. 

In one tent, a petite and lithe woman with short brown hair folded herself inside a glass box, no bigger than an apple crate. Peeta could swear he could see a smirk on her face, as if she was amused by the audience, while the crowd watched her contort herself into various poses as intricate as the tattoos that adorned her body.

In the big top, a man with bright red hair stood in the center. He came face to face with an assortment of wild animals––the likes of which Peeta had only read about in books––and astounded audiences as he performed daring feats with them. Peeta thought he saw him whispering to the lions and tigers before each routine, but thought it impossible that he was actually communicating with them. He shoved more popcorn in his mouth as he and Posy watched the performance in wonderment.

In the final minutes of the night, Peeta allowed Posy to drag him to what he declared would be the final tent of their excursion. He noticed her yawning at the top of the hour, but was admittedly having fun himself. 

It was a rather modest arrangement, in comparison to the others. This was more intimate, the seats incapable of holding more than thirty people at a time. As patrons had already filed in, Peeta luckily found two seats toward the center of the audience with a perfect view of the small platform. Once they were all seated, the tent's openings were screened by curtains, seeming to completely vanish, and the tent darkened. A bare spotlight lit the stage. 

One moment, the stage was empty. The next moment, a girl appeared. Peeta might guess her to be his age, though her attire made her look almost ageless. She wore a dark, floor-length gown that looked like it had been fashioned from a patch of the night sky, and a white feather boa draped around her slender shoulders. Dark curls were arranged in a plait that wound around her head like a crown. From the sparse lighting, Peeta could see her eyes were the color of the charcoal he uses for his drawings and sketches, though they were artificially darkened. He wondered what color they actually were under the sun.

The illusionist's performance began with a flourish of her arms. She slipped off the white feathered boa from her shoulders, and with wave, it was transformed into a flock of snow-white doves. They looped around the small tent and their chirps disappeared just as suddenly as they appeared. 

In the next half hour, Peeta, Posy, and the audience witnessed inexplicable tricks, one after another. Birds and other creatures appeared and disappeared under chairs, under gentlemen's hats, and even inside someone's waistcoat pocket. They could not find an appropriate moment during which to shower her with applause. 

All Peeta could register was that with the first wave of her arm, he was a goner. He paid close attention to the illusionist, and Peeta was perplexed at everything that was happening around him––and now that he thought about it, throughout the night. He was beginning to suspect something was very different about this circus, something impossibly impossible.

Before Peeta could think on it further, the illusionist had restored her dove-feathered boa into is original form. Another wave of her arm, and the boa dissolved into dandelion seeds that dispersed and vanished.

The only indication that that was her final performance is the perfect curtsey she gave the audience. When she lifted her head, Peeta could swear she looked straight into his eyes for a brief moment. In that instant, he could see there was a more than a trace of sadness buried within her features, and he thought he saw who she really was. She blinked once, then a smile and a mystery suddenly covered her face. Gradually, dark smoke began to billow from around her feet. The cloud rose around her in a swirling dance until it enveloped her body. Eventually, her face was surrounded as well. The last he saw of her, she closed her eyes as she disappeared beneath the smoke. 

Once the air had cleared, the stage was once again as empty as it was when they first entered the tent. Some of the audience members applauded, while others simply nodded their heads in appreciation for the illusions they had witnessed in the past half hour. The tent's opening spread itself open to let the spectators out. One last gasp of marvel escaped their lips, and they filed out one by one.

Peeta remained in his seat still entranced and staring at the empty spot where the illusionist performed, while little Posy's head lolled onto his shoulder, her soft snoring the only sounds in the tent. 

>>\------------->

_end part 1_


End file.
